Spotted these on the way home, so thought I’d share. It’s worth noting, Lowes is normally a reasonably conservative discount clothing store for men. A great place for jocks, sox, and other “men’s stuff”. At around $200, this range of suits is tempting (for a bit of fun), and great to see them doing something a little different.
They say Garbo was elusive in her life. She’s somewhat elusive in death also, it seems. Even though I’d found some online instructions about how to find her grave, they weren’t particularly clear. Even though they were seemingly quite detailed, they lacked specifics. The “general vibe” isn’t enough when it comes to navigation, I’ve concluded.
But if you’re looking for the grave of the famous Swedish actor, it’s actually pretty simple. First, you catch a bus or T-bana to to Skogskyrkogården (the woodland cemetery) in Stockholm’s south. Once there, you walk along the main path (walking past the chapels and the large crucifix) until you see signs which direct you to Skogskapellet (the woodland chapel). Once there, you enter the grounds of the chapel (it’s surrounded by a wall), and once inside, facing the chapel, look towards the right and you’ll see an exit. Walk to the exit, look straight ahead, and you’ll see her grave (about fifty metres away). It’s directly ahead.
It was the first stop for us on a day of differing types of arts and culture.
Our next major arts “stop” for the day was the Moderna Museet, which I’ve been to on a number of occasions before, and which I’ve previously enjoyed very much. There were a couple of works which I enjoyed very much, including a fantastic self-portrait by Swedish artist, Cecilia Edefalk.
From the moment we entered the room I was captivated by the simple black and white photograph.
Nearby there was another work by an American artist, Elaine Sturtevant, which I also liked very much. Again, it’s a simple image, but with a twist, as the woman portrayed has neon lights for lips.
In contrast, some of the current main exhibitions left me cold. In particular, I felt almost absolutely nothing as I walked around and looked at the works of the well-known Swedish artist, Hilma af Klint. Although the exhibition was well-attended, I couldn’t see what the attraction was. To me, there was no passion in the work. It seemed a little cold, a little clinical for my liking. I’ve probably missed the point, and maybe I needed to know a little more about her work before entering the exhibition?
After a brief mid-afternoon coffee break, we took a look around the nearby Arkitekturmuseet (Architecture museum). Essentially, it’s one very large room that takes you through a couple of thousand years of Swedish architecture, from early buildings made from timber and mud, to the latest and greatest. There’s a reference to aquatics centre at the Beijing Olympics, though I couldn’t work out what the connection was. (Updated)
What I thought was really interesting about the Arkitekturmuseet, and really enjoyed was the insight the museum also gave into the lives of everyday Swedes. There’s a series of panels and videos which describe (in Swedish) different modes of living enjoyed by everyday Swedes. To accompany the exhibition, there’s also an excellent audio commentary tour available. On the audio tour, I was delighted to instantly recognise the voice of Gaby Katz. “She used to present Sounds Nordic on Sveriges Radio”, I told Sue.
Later in the evening we headed to the Big Ben Pub for their English language comedy night. In a country where everyone speaks brilliant English, and where there are signs for everything in English, and where there are lots of English language programs on TV (ok, basically Big Bang Theory and The Simpsons), I was keen to find something which we could go both out and enjoy.
Interestingly enough, I’d say 90% of the crowd (maybe more) were Swedes. On top of that, three out of the five comics were also native born Swedes, and most of their humour related to their Swedish-ness. During the first half we were a little worried, as the first two comics weren’t all that funny, and sometimes struggled a little with English.
The second half, though, was pretty good. In particular, we enjoyed the personal humour of the only female comic of the night, a Swedish woman from East Asian heritage who had recently moved to London. Much of her comedy was about her experiences growing up “looking different” in Sweden, and about her unsuccessful attempts at relationships. Sometimes that whole “I’m a woman who can’t find a man” comedy routine can be a little tiresome. I also think it can sometimes re-inforce some female stereotypes. Although tempted, she didn’t fall too heavily into that trap, emerging as a strong, confident woman. The audience loved her, and so did we.
As I walked around the fields of the Cu Chi Tunnels near Ho Chi Minh City, I could hear the sound of gunshots. It was quite impressive and gave me a realistic sense of what it might have been like during the American Vietnam War, I thought.
It started raining just as we arrived, and then quickly cleared, to be followed by hot and steamy weather, which further added to the atmosphere and provided a glimpse into the conditions experienced by the people in the area during this time.
Looking at the vegetation, you could get a vague sense of the jungle terrain and how it was destroyed by Agent Orange during the war. What remains now is just a fraction of what it used to be between 1954 and 1975. It was, apparently, thick jungle, and later empty landscape.
The legacy of Agent Orange continues in a gallery and workshop that we visited along the way. It’s a place where people with disability caused by Agent Orange, are creating art.
The artwork produced there is absolutely beautiful. Although it’s not my usual preference or style, as I learned more about the effort put into creating these pieces—using materials like eggshell and mother of pearl, and the intricate hand-carving and polishing—I began to appreciate and even liked some of the works. What made it even more meaningful was knowing the money raised from sales goes towards supporting these individuals, their children, and grandchildren.
In a landscape decimated by the defoliant, between 1954 and 1975, around 10,000 people from the Vietcong lived underground.
By visiting the tunnels we learned a little about their lives.
For example, we learned about their consumption tapioca, a root vegetable, a type of agriculture, that could be grown without the soldiers above ground knowing people were living below.
Another intriguing aspect was how they cooked underground. We were told that there was a very slow release of smoke at different locations, aiming to give no indication of people living below.
We also saw the handmade rubber thongs, which had an interesting design where the footprints appeared to go in the opposite direction.
However, I couldn’t help but think about the diseases and challenges associated with the tropics, such as malaria and leeches.
But I also considered the sense of normality that must have existed—families going about their daily lives, raising children in that environment.
During the tour, many in the group participated in some of the immersive experiences like crawling through tunnels or descending into narrow spaces. Personally, I couldn’t do it due to my claustrophobia and my own reservations about this type of tourism.
At the end of the tour, some people had the opportunity to shoot targets using M16 and AK47 weapons, provided during the war by the Russians and Americans. However, this wasn’t something I felt comfortable doing as I am more of a pacifist and not particularly fond of such activities. Nonetheless, I believe it added to the overall experience for many. And yes, the “sound effects” I heard at the start of the tour were very real.
A difficult subject, and something you might want to “avoid” if you’re a tourist, but well worth seeing and experiencing to deepen your understanding of history.
A big shout out to Kate (her Western Name), our local tour guide who explained everything we saw today with authority and empathy. She’s amazing.
There’s not enough clocks in Sydney in my humble opinion. I’d like to see more public clocks, like the one at Central Railway. As you wait anxiously for the bus sitting opposite Central, there’s nothing quite like looking up at the sky, seeing the clear blue or the wonderful clouds, enjoying the wonder of nature, while at the same time finding out how late your bus is.
Yes, I know I could check my watch or mobile phone, but actually I haven’t worn a watch in several years. As I work in an industry where time is incredibly important, and where clocks are ever-present, I stopped wearing a watch several years ago. Not as a sign of rebellion, but because I’ve developed my own fairly accurate internal clock.
An internal body clock which allows me to know almost exactly how long five minutes is, how long an hour is, how long it takes me in a precise manner to get from A to B, and at what time I should wake up (I don’t use an alarm clock either). I’ve discussed it with other people at work whose lives are similarly governed by the passing of time, and they’ve told me they also have this gift.
And, although this has been a good thing in many ways, it can sometimes be a burden, such as when a meeting or a speech doesn’t start on time or goes on too long. And while it’s helped me predict just how late I need to leave home to meet some of my friends (who are ALWAYS late), their lack of punctuality still drives me a little insane, because of this infernal internal body clock.
So that’s why I’d like to see the time externalised a bit. Removed from my internals, removed from my arm. And besides, there’s something a little old-fashioned and romantic about a town clock that I think would help to keep our cities civilised.
On most nights before I go to bed, I look at my calendar for the following day. Often I’ll add a few items to the “to do” list, and maybe tenatively organise a brief meeting or two to finalise or start something.
I’m not one for blocking out hour-long meetings and discussions. My view is that if you do your homework, and have a clear agenda, most meetings can be brief, and are sometimes just a formality. Nonetheless, I usually have one or two meetings – usually half an hour, sometimes an hour – scheduled in for most days.
I didn’t do that preparation last night, as I went to bed within minutes of arriving home from the pub.
So you can imagine my surprise as I checked my calendar on the way to work this morning when I discovered I had absolutely no meetings booked in at all. There were a few items on the “to do” list, but no actual meetings.
In contrast to the last few months which have been extraordinarily busy, it was nice to have a clean run. I managed to knock off everything on the “to do” list for today, and even managed to get ahead.
I was awoken this morning by a text message. The truth be told, I’d heard a few messages come in throughout the night, but since I’m on holiday, and since I’m in Berlin, I hadn’t bothered to look at them. They were, of course, a series of messages concerning the latest challenge (or non-challenge) to the Prime Minister, Julia Gillard. I’m still on a “breaking news” alert system operated by the ABC, and had re-installed my Australian SIM card (replacing the Swedish SIM), so received them pretty much instantaneously. By the time I’d woken up at about 7.00am, it was all over and done with it. The Prime Minister had survived, and ABC News 24 was carrying a media conference by the Opposition Leader, Tony Abbott. A few minutes later we switched on the television to see the story reported quite extensively on BBC World.
It’s amazing to think that in the two weeks since I’ve been away, there have been two “successful leadership changes” in Australia (Victoria and the Northern Territory), one “unsuccessful leadership change” (the non-challenge by Kevin Rudd), as well as the election of Pope Francis. As one of my key roles back home for ABC Radio is to ensure good coverage and communication of major breaking news, I was feeling very sorry for Sarah who is replacing me. Sarah, I swear I had no idea it was going to be this busy.
For Sue and I, though, the day hasn’t been that busy. There were only three major things we needed to achieve today: clean up the apartment we’ve been staying in; catch the trains from Berlin to Copenhagen; and then find the AirBnb accommodation we’re staying in for the next four days.
This time the accommodation is a little different, as we’re staying about thirty minutes to the north of central accommodation, and this time we’re actually staying in someone’s apartment. Over a glass of wine tonight we heard quite a bit about her pretty amazing life story, having lived in the Phillipines, Australia, and having returned to the workforce, aged forty-nine (twelve years ago) as a flight attendant.
Aside from that, it was essentially a day of travel. While Sue read a book; I listened to a number of podcasts and looked out the window. I listened to a few of my favourite tech podcasts (TWIG and Tech News Today), a couple of episodes of Richard Fidler’s Conversations (one about a woman whose grandfather who became notorious in the British postal system; another about a woman who is the Obituaries Editor for The Economist), along with something I’ve just discovered called “Stuff You Should Know”. Today’s edition was about the history of the US postal system, which faces an economic crisis. All good fodder to pass the time on the train.
As I’ve mentioned the other day, there’s been a large amount of snow fall over much of Europe over the last few days. On top of what had already been there from the longish winter, the view from Berlin to Copenhagen was essentially black and white all the way. Even though the colour variation wasn’t that great, there was certainly a lot to see as the landscape changed, as we went from town to town, and finally, as the train came to a halt.
“I wasn’t expecting this”, I said to Sue, as our train went on board a ferry. We were told, due to safety reasons, we couldn’t stay on board as the ferry crossed the water between the German mainland and Denmark. The journey took about forty-five minutes and, as we found, was best passed with a Diet Coke and a Carlsberg beer. Up on the main deck, the winds were brisk (to say the least), but we couldn’t let the opportunity pass without going outside.
After the last few days in Berlin (one of the most amazing cities in the world), we’re now planning to spend the next few days in Copenhagen (a really beautiful city). On the train from Copenhagen to Hørsholm (where we’re staying), we got chatting with an older woman who told us she had just spent a few days in London. She had two large bags from her visit. The one on the bottom contained her clothes. The one on the top contained books she had bought about her favourite Italian painter. She told us she likes to draw, lives in a beautiful location with the woodlands on one side and the sea on the other, and that her husband had died five years ago.
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Taking a leaf out of Redfoo’s book maybe, they look great.
You are much more hip and groovy than I am – I had to look up who Redfoo was :)